


When in Doubt, Shoot the Wizard

by LittleBabyShouta



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, BAMF Edward Elric, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, British Slang, British Swears, Edward Elric Is A Little Shit, Edward Elric Keeps Alchemy, Edward Elric Keeps Automail, Edward Elric Swears, Edward Elric is a Philiosopher stone, Edward elric is bad at feelings, Edward teaches Alchemy, Father (Fullmetal Alchemist) is destoryed but at a cost, Hogwarts, Immortal edward elric, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, OC's are mostly just for background characters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Professor Edward Elric, Rating May Change, Severus Snape is Bad at Feelings, Severus Snape is So Done, Severus Snape is not a great person, Some OC's are Amestrian Souls, Some dialogue comes directly some the show/book(s), Sort Of, Tags May Change, Tasks and quests, The Golden Trio Swears, Time Travel, Truth (Fullmetal Alchemist) is a Little Shit, Violence, he does try, just not very hard, no beta we die like Maes Hughes, unbetad but edited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28139001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleBabyShouta/pseuds/LittleBabyShouta
Summary: “W-what do you want for them? My body isn't enough for so many people- they're worth more than that!" He remembers the little bit of hope that swelled in him when Truth announced to him that he could save his people- Winry, Mustang, Hawkeye, Havoc, Ling, Mei, Scar,...Alphonse. All of them.And he remembers that newly blossomed hope torn from his chest with bare hands."Your time."Because he knew... that Truth just might take all of it.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 131





	When in Doubt, Shoot the Wizard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [s_era](https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_era/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286218) by [LiteratureWork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteratureWork/pseuds/LiteratureWork). 



> Hello and welcome to a new Fullmetal Alchemist story! Lately, I've been sucked into the FMAxHP crossover verse by my good friend s_era. Which this fic is a gift for! I've read so many good ones, and they decided to live in my head rent free. So I decided to try my hand at writing one! This is definitely going to be a longer series compared to my other fics. And I'm going to try and write for this one more often. I know I always say that I'll get to updating my other stuff, but promise I will- it's just that this kind of writing is more fun for me compared to the BNHA stuff- which I still love btw! 
> 
> So this story is inspired by Literature_Works' "Harry Potter and The Eastern Sage." It's so freakin good, so please when you have the time go read it. It's one of my favorite fmahp fics, it's just so good. 
> 
> This story has A work skin! Nothing edited using the ao3 work skin system will take away from the story, so if you can't use the work skin or it bothers you in any way- feel free to remove it! It's really only there for aesthetic reasons. I tried to emulate the HarryPotter writing style with the font, although they are slightly different. If the font doesn't appear Harry Potteresc, then you might not have the font download! It's called Palatino, and it's super easy to download, just type in Palatino font download and you'll get a bunch of options. But again this is not nessescary.
> 
> Red text is Truth speaking! You will not find Red text when Edward is speaking to Truth in Gate. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome, but please be kind! Constructive does not mean offer rude advice! Anyway, Enjoy!

**Arc I: The End of The Beginning: 1**

_“I have walked a stair of swords, I have worn a coat of scars. I have vowed with hollow words, I have lied my way to the stars- Songs of Sapphique.”_

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

The streets were a mess this time of year, people of all ages scrambling about trying to find that last item on their shopping list, or corralling overexcited children into stores to tailor them for their overly long robes. Muddled noises and scents of the small shopping center filled the air- a familiar thing, homely but busy all the same. Sweetbreads and corned meats accompanied by increasingly large helpings of freshly made sausages filled the nearby stalls- brightly colored in greens and purples, dusty oranges and yellows, or really any color known to man- or well, a wizard in this case. Streets lined with rickety and fascinatingly adorned, buildings and hovels filled with strangely dressed children reaching for fantastically colored sweets. Truly, there was no place like Diagon Alley. 

And Edward hated it. 

It wasn’t he was particularly averse to the bustling streets, or the people in them for that matter. No, no, it wasn’t anything like that- it was just too damn happy! And Edward Elric was anything but happy. 

Each time he found himself in the whimsical world that was the Wizarding Community, he felt what little was left of his soul whither a little further and his head split a little harder.

_‘Oh come now Little Al-chem-ist, these people have brought you so much! Are you that much of a sniveling brat to disregard it?’_

Ah, speaking of headaches.

“Fuck off Truth, no one asked you.” Edward whispered under his breath, even after all these years he still couldn’t keep his conversations with God in his head. Truth, as they were christened, is the ‘God’ of Equivalent Exchange, of Alchemy, of everything, and here they were pissing around in his head, picking at the little cogs that make his brains go-round. What an Asshole.

_‘Fullmetal-’_

“You too, Roy.”

“Uhm Sir-?” His tirade was interrupted by the counter-witch, who for some reason decided that orange hair would look good on her. Orange! Not even Weasley orange, just...orange.

“Yes?” He really didn’t have time for this-

“Y-your order is ready.” The young witch jumped nearly twelve feet as the enchanted package slammed down on the wooden counter with a dull ‘thud.’

“Oh right- yes, thank you.” Edward rummaged in his back pocket for his bag of wizard coins- grumbling at the lack of economical sense these people had (Who doesn't coin money by tens?! Anything would have been better than this system.)- and placed eight golden Galleons and four sickles on the table before grabbing his package and exiting the dingy shack. And shack it was, on the outside at least. 

“Fucking Wizards, can’t run a proper economy, can’t manage a decent government, and hire people like me to teach a school full of snot-nosed brats, again!” 

_‘They hired you because you’re the best damn Alchemy Professor around.’_

Edward could practically feel the look Winry gave him, even if couldn’t see her, he knew exasperation when he heard it. 

“I’m the only Alchemy Professor around. Shit, Winry- what year is it?” 

_‘How would I know?_

_‘July 31st, 19...91. Well would you look at that Fullmetal, it’s about time we got this mission up and running!’_

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Harry stood in shock as the great giant of a man cursed and sputtered at his Aunt and Uncle. The man's face was flushed with anger as he reached out to shake the bloated man that was Vernon Dursley. 

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" said Harry eagerly. 

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic. His face- though always red and flustered from his great weight, was even redder than Harry had ever seen it. Besides the great tomato, his Aunt was paler than a sheet- white like stars in a pitch-black room. 

Aunt Petunia gasped in horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry--yer a wizard."

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

“Can’t believe it’s finally happening- after all this time.” Edward snorted into his Butterbeer, a little too sweet for his liking, but fortunately, the drink bore no milk, so he drank it anyway. “God, only a few more years of this shit, and we can go home.”

_‘What did I tell you Little Al-chem-ist, a trivial task! Guide the Wizarding world into fruition and protect the Boy-Who-Lived! Truly so easy! A generous God I am, indeed.’_

“Generous my ass- a whole fucking century of shit to get to this point.”

_‘I said ‘easy,’ not short- though given your measly lives I suppose it is a comparatively long time. But oh- all the fun we had together! Those first couple decades with just the two of us were especially fun.’_

“Fun? Fun?! I nearly died, you arrogant prick!” Edward seethed under his breath, it was far harder to conduct a ‘private’ conversation in a crowded pub, but nothing Edward did anymore was ‘private.’ At least none of these bastard wizards spoke Amestrian. 

_‘Ed, calm down- you’re gonna get kicked out of the pub again-’_

_‘Fullmetal doesn’t know the meaning of ‘calm,’ Winry.’_

“Oh fuck off, Colonel Bastard- you’re lucky I can’t mute you or transmute you into a pig.”

Someone snorted off to the side- or well off to the side in his head. He thought it sounded like Havoc.

“What are you laughing at?”

_‘Nothin’, nothin’. Say, Boss- is it really almost over? Are we really almost home?’_

“Yeah, yeah I think so. All we have to do now is protect ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived,’ and help him defeat that blasted Tom Riddle.” Edward groaned into his tankard. “Why couldn’t I have just prevented him from being born or some shit- did I really have to let the bastard roam free?”

_‘My, my, Little Al-chem-ist, questioning my little ‘quest?’_

“Always-” Edward sighed again before downing the rest of his Butterbeer, he would have gone for something stronger...but most bartenders refused to believe he was an adult. “Never a dull moment with you around huh.” 

_‘With you to occupy my time with? Never!’_

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

_He remembers it clearly: the day he was sucked into this hell, the day he lost everything and more, the day he signed his soul away to Truth- The Promised Day._

_It wasn't supposed to go the way it did. They weren't supposed to lose. Even if Father and the Homunculi fell, even if they defeated the ultimate evil- they had lost everything in return._

_Equivalent Exchange he supposed. Oh how he used to blindly follow that construed philosophy. Truly he should have seen it coming- should have known that they wouldn't get away scot-free. Not without a great toll. Their war was waged and 'won' by all standards, but it was bittersweet._

_The souls of the innocent and harmless were forced from their bodies in his failure to protect them. All of Amestris, taken in a solitary night; like Xerxes, now nothing more than an ancient ruin of the once spectacular City of Gold._

_He remembers so very clearly each soul forcing itself into his body- into his heart. He remembers their sorrowed and confused cries as they entered his mind, a cacophony of screams clawing away at his mind. And he remembers Truth ripping them out again, one-on-one. All 51,056,867 people in Amestris- all his friends and family, all the military people he'd passed in the hallways, all the little street corner vendors, complete strangers he had no knowledge of beforehand._

_And he remembers, even after all this time, word-for-word what that Bastard Truth said to him when he fell into the gate for the fourth time._

_"Hello Little Al-chem-ist- '' They said, ghostly smile bright and upturned, and yet somehow incredibly false. "Quite unfortunate, this little meeting of ours. I had hoped you and your measly little friends would have won Father's little game, but alas here you are again- and not for your arm or leg, and certainly not for your brother."_

_"A-Al." This was all he could stutter out before his body was wracked with sobs._

_"Get up Little Al-chem-ist. We have work to do yet!" They grinned, albeit not without a hint of regret. "Yes, work indeed."_

_"F-Fuck you bastard! If you wanted us to win so badly, why didn't you do anything!"_

_"You forget Little Al-chem-ist, that cannot interfere with your lives without sufficient payment- payment you had yet to give. But things turned out decently well in the end, quite the shocker really, very entertaining." "You see Edward, I've grown rather bored in here, nothing to do but watch and collect, and I had hoped your little encounter with Father would have got two birds with one stone so to speak. Get rid of one nuisance and supply me with entertainment and a wonderful set of limbs. But now-" They paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought._

_"But now what? Spit it out, or I'll tear it out!"_

_"My, my, so aggressive! But now, Little Al-chem-ist, I have an overabundance of souls that aren't meant to be here. So, I propose a little game!"_

_"I'm not here to play games with you Truth! I just want my people back!"_

_"So feisty! Please, Little Al-chem-ist, listen, and I shall explain to you everything you must do to retain what you've lost- all of what you've lost. Well...maybe not all- you see, I've decided I rather like your arm and leg! But your country's souls? Those you may earn back."_

_"Earn? Earn?! What is this, they're not chips in a poker game! They're people dammit!"_

_"Shut up boy, don't you think I don't know that. I don't want them here. They're in the way and noisy with all their yapping. You do something for me; I'll do something for you? Equivalent Exchange!"_

_“W-what do you want for them? My body isn't enough for so many people- they're worth more than that!"He remembers the little bit of hope that swelled in him when Truth announced to him that he could save his people- Windy, Mustang, Hawkeye, Havoc, Ling, Mei, Scar,...Alphonse. All of them._

_And he remembers that newly blossomed hope torn from his chest with bare hands._

_"Your time."_

_Because he knew... that Truth just might take all of it._

_━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━_

_He remembers waking up in a golden field- flush grasses brushing against his weathered face, grains tickling his neck and shoulders, and he remembers the smell: sweet like honey and fresh like the meadows and pastures of Resembool. But this- this was not Resembool._

_"Ngh, where-?"_

_'Good morning, Little Al-che-mist! Welcome to Europe! The Kingdom of Wessex to be exact. The tail end of it, I suppose, in the year of... well me, 923.'_

_"Dammit Truth, where are you!" Edward swiveled around- searching for the familiar white emptiness that was Truth._

_'I'm right here, Little Al-che-mist.'_

_"Y-you're in my head. Ah hell, you're in my head!"_

_'I did say I was coming along.'_

_"The hell you did, Bastard! Wait- did you say 923? Just where the hell did you put me?!"_

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

_“So how does this work? You sit around in my head all day while I do your dirty work?” Said Edward as he scouted the surrounding fields and forest. There’s a small village about a klick east, but the surrounding land was barren except for large fields of grain and wheatgrass._

_‘Something like that- you see that village over there? That’s your first task. Or well, the person living there is. His name is Merlin, and you are going to get him to Hogwarts!’_

_“Hog-what? Wait a second; I’m not a babysitter! Why can’t he get there himself?”_

_‘Hogwarts. And don’t you want your friends back?’_

_Edward remained silent at the thought- of course, he wanted his friends back, it's why he’s in this mess...but if he’s so far back in time, how long was he supposed to work with Truth?_

_“Fine, but where are we?”_

_‘I already told you- The Kingdom of Wessex.’_

_“Yeah, but where? I’ve never heard of Wessex, is it like Xerxes?”_

_‘In a way- it’s a prosperous kingdom, but it’s nearly at its end and the people here will soon be in need of new lodgings. I will warn you; this place is dangerous for people like you Little Alchemist.’_

_“People like me?”_

_‘Sorcerers.’_

_“Sorcerers?! That’s ridiculous, I’m not a sorcerer!” He sputtered at the notion- alchemy is not magic!_

_“Yes, but they don’t know that. They will see your alchemy- your toll, as the work of the Devil, and they will persecute you.”_

_“I think I can deal with some medieval religious zealots.”_

_“Oh I’m sure you can Little Alchemist, but can Merlin?”_

_“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”_

_“Oh you’ll see! Goodbye for now Little Al-chem-ist, I have work to do elsewhere. Try not to die! Oh wait- you can’t!”_

_And with that, the weight of Truth was lifted from his mind, and he was alone._

_“Fuck!”_

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

In the month following the new revelation that he was a Wizard and the subsequent trip to the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, Harry found himself increasingly agitated. Both in the sense that he was ecstatic of his new position and the overwhelming contempt from his relatives. His workload had grown to twice the size of what it had been- something he wasn’t aware was possible. Every day he was out gardening or cleaning the kitchen- only to have his Aunt Petunia have him redo it the next day. His Uncle Vernon refused to speak to him except to berate him for his birth or to confine him to his room. Dudley wasn’t much better, but his reluctance to speak to him stemmed more out of fear than the sheer revolution from his Aunt and Uncle. He spent the majority of the month feeling both entirely worthless and like he’d discovered his true purpose. He wasn’t sure which was scarier.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Harry felt entirely stupid- the look the train guard gave him when he mentioned the platform number struck Harry to his core. He knew he wasn’t an idiot, and yet at that moment, he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment from his obvious ignorance. He’s a Wizard for darn sake! Surely he should be able to find the train platform. He half thought to bring out his wand, but he was afraid the Ministry might take him away before he got to Hogwarts. 

‘Dammit! I’m going to be late at this rate, then what will I do? Maybe — maybe run away and become a farmer or something. 

_— God I’m an idiot. Uncle Dursley was right- I really am useless._

But there, in between platforms 9 and 10 was a plump woman and her hoard of red-headed children. They must have been Wizards too judging by the rickety carts and trunks so similar to his own. Tired of feeling useless, Harry stumbled over to the plump witch. 

“Excuse me,” Harry said to the plump woman. 

“Hello, dear,” she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. 

“Yes,” replied Harry. “The thing is — the thing is, I don’t know how to —” 

“How to get onto the platform?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded.

“Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.” 

‘Right — just run into the brick wall, nothing to worry about.’

“Er — okay,” said Harry. He steered his cart around so that it was facing the brick wall- distantly he imagined what the people around him must think- or maybe they couldn’t see it, no one seemed to try and stop him...or even see him for that matter. The plump woman’s encouragement drew him from his thoughts, and he reared himself up for collision- but it never came. As he drove the cart through the barrier, he felt an unusual wash of tingles down his spine- and he felt distantly more content, the air past the barrier- for that is where he surely must be, weighed down on him, but it wasn’t heavy in any way. No, it was quite — magical. He loosened his grip on his cart and searched the area for the source- and there, in front of him- was a beautiful red steam engine and a sign that read ‘Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.’

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

“Shit, shit, shit, shit! I’m gonna be late!” Edward ran haphazardly across the train platform- trying his damndest to catch the train before it left for Hogwarts. He’d been in his personal study reviewing notes for his first class, intending to have everything in order, as he should have, before he reached the school. But alas, he’d fallen down a rabbit hole of theories and research long since set aside for that exact same reason- it was a fall-trap of seemingly normal alchemical notes that led into a series of tangents and long-winded thoughts on subjects Edward had no intention of revisiting...until now. So, instead of waking early and riding the teacher’s train to Hogwarts, he found himself half-asleep in his study with ink stains smudged across his face from where a pen had snapped under the pressure of his automail and his notes covered with splattered ink and drool. All of this of course- twenty minutes from when he had to leave.

As much as Edward disliked, no hated, the lack of equivalence and logic in magic, it made one hell of a miracle worker. He magicked up a quick _Proluo Prolutum_ charm and threw on a clean set of clothes, before dashing hurriedly out the door.

Naturally, there was the very obvious reason as his dislike of magic- the barrier leading to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The not so solid brick wall separating the ‘Muggle’ world from that of the Wizards, was both scientifically impossible and hilariously on-point for Wizards and their particular brand of assholery. The barrier was meant to divide the two worlds and prevent ‘Muggles’ from unexpectedly entering the Hogwarts Express. He’d passed through the accursed thing more times than he could count, well actually he could- 348 times he had run through this particular Wizarding bullshit, and each time it was the same: horribly uncomfortable. 

With relative ease, Edward passed through the barrier into the Wizarding realm- his automail ports whining painfully as he did so. Poor things wanted to be left behind on the other side- thankfully they'd never disconnected, although the first pass through left him thoroughly winded and nauseated to the point of fainting- not that he’d tell anyone else as such. 

The roar of the scarlet-red steam engine signaled him of its imminent departure. With speed only someone with an intense desire to not be late could muster, Edward ran towards the train’s mocking carriages and swung himself onto the first platform he came across. The heavy metal of his automail clinked unappealingly against the grated lip of the last carriage. 

_‘Just couldn’t ignore your rabbit hole of a notebook, huh birdbrain?’_

“B-Birdbrain?! So mean Winry. Anyways it doesn’t matter now, in a few hours we’ll be back at Hogwarts and on the path to finish this mess.”

Colonel Bastard snorted indignantly in the back of his mind- clearly, the asshole didn’t appreciate his work ethic. 

_`What work ethic, Fullmetal, the one that means you’re nearly late to every meeting you’ve ever had or the one that nearly gets you killed every time you go outside?’_

“Fuck off lazy Bastard, you can’t say shit- Hawkeye has to point her gun at you to get you to do your work, so I’m clearly doing better than you are.” Edward pulled open the train carriage’s door and peered down the hallway. It was still decently packed with students finding last-minute seats- apparently, he wasn’t the only one a little behind schedule. Distantly he heard Mustang give a quiet ‘hmph’ before leaving to pout somewhere in the corner of his mind. 

The first few carriages he came across were relatively empty- only a few students looking for somewhere quiet to sleep. Technically the older students were allowed to cast basic spells on the train, but given the number of first years on the train, it wasn’t really worth the hassle- little buggers always wanting to get in your business and watch you do simple charms.

As he made his way down the velvet padded corridor, he felt both more and less agitated. While it was nice to ride the Hogwarts Express once more, the best wizarding mode of transportation, it also evoked with it a foreboding sense of dread. This was the beginning of the end for Edward, and his friends as well, his friends who had spent centuries by his side- trapped inside the very thing they vowed to destroy: a Philosopher’s Stone. A relic of pure evil- created out of human greed and lust for power. The very stone Father created using Amestrian souls, rested squarely in his chest- in place of his heart. And inside- the very souls they fought to save. Yes, the beginning of their quest and reason for being here: Harry Potter. 

You see, one might find that “guiding the Wizarding World” is a rather arbitrary quest, as it could mean literally anything. But of course, Truth, being the asshole they are, already had a timeline set in place- a loose one mind you, for Edward to follow. And Edward, being the reckless Alchemist that he is, completely threw that timeline off course- multiple times in fact. Which of course meant more ‘questing,’ which was really more like doing Truth’s dirty laundry. This quest led to side quests which led to side quests which led to main quests overriding the main quest, and so on and so on. Of course, Edward had a sneaky suspicion Truth was bullshitting him to begin with and had everything planned from the start — which wouldn't be too off-par from Truth’s normal bullshittery. Which is what led to the now permanent main objective: Protecting Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and defeat- see kill- Tom Marvolo Riddle. Which is — not at all what Truth had planned, supposedly anyway. The ‘millennia’ long quest should have only been a few centuries at the least. But Truth, being Truth, was very much bored with the main objective and wanted something more.

So now, here he was on a train to Hogwarts, again, to teach alchemy, again. 

‘Fucking convoluted piece of shit Truth.’

Truth only smiled wider.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Harry’s previous anxiousness had quickly turned into visible excitement as he learned about the various nuances of the Wizarding World. Ron Weasley sure was interesting- full of facts, even if he seemed to find himself lacking, and clearly brilliant. Even if he was ‘pureblood’ and had been around wizards his entire life, Harry thought this name was stupid- why couldn't they have just called them ‘wizardborns’ to match the ‘muggleborns- Ron sure picked up lots of information, and he knew pretty much everything there was to know about the ‘Famous Witches and Wizards’ on the chocolate frog cards. Yes, Ron was very smart indeed- which didn’t help Harry's lingering sense of permanent ignorance, but once again Ron assured him that he too would learn these things. 

Then there was the bushy-haired girl- Hermione, who dropped by, and watched as Ron failed to turn his rat Scabbers yellow. It didn’t much sound like any of the spells he’d heard before, but then again he wasn’t even sure if anything he knew was real- did Wizards use ‘Abracadabra?’ Hermione seemed interesting to say the least- bossy and imposing, but certainly interesting. Ron announced after she left that he hoped they were not placed in the same house, but Harry had a distant feeling they were going to see a whole lot more of her.

The rest of the train ride went without incident- that is until a strangely dressed blond teen flung the door open calling out Harry’s name.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

“Where is he, where is he?! I’ve been searching this damn train for the past half hour and I still can’t find the little shit!” Edward stomped down the corridor opening carriages scanning the room for ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived.’ Supposedly the kid had a lightning-shaped scar plastered on his forehead from Marvolo Junior, but none of the first years had any visible scars- none in any distinguishable shape at least. 

By now Edward was fed up with having to repeat himself to tiny preteens with the squeakiest of voices. He was about to give up and cast a locator spell, but a half-empty carriage off to his side- the same one he’d passed several times- caught his attention. 

There in the corner was a scraggly looking boy, thinner than a twig and hair resembling more of a bird’s nest than anything, glanced up at the door and made eye contact. 

And there, just barely visible under his vast curl, was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

“Harry Potter?” Edward said as he flung open the carriage door- it slammed into the wall and the resulting sound caused the red-haired boy to leap nearly twelve feet- ah, another Weasley. (Red, red, red, so much red! All of them red! Surely the chances of all of the Weasley children being redheads weren’t that high- red hair is recessive for Truth’s sake!)

The boy in question shrunk in on himself, his black curls falling neatly over his eyes. “Er—yes?” 

_Found you, ya’ little bugger!_

Edward let an easy smile fall across his face, he didn’t want to scare the poor bastard just yet- no use playing bodyguard if the person you’re protecting is running away from you.

The young Weasley rose a brow in question at Edward’s sudden change of attitude.

“Those seats empty?” He pointed towards the section of seats only occupied with piles of candy and empty wrappers. The two boys nodded and pushed their collection of sweets to the side- a few empty wrappers falling to the ground. 

Edward snatched a chocolate frog off the ground and carefully flipped open the tab to prevent the frog from jumping away. “I’m Professor Elric by the way.”

“Wait, Professor?!” Ron exclaimed, his jaw slack open. “But you’re hardly taller than Harry here!

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT YOU'D NEED A MICROSCOPE TO SEE HIM?!”

_‘He didn’t say that Edward.’_ Winry admonished from her corner in his mind. 

“Blimey- feisty one too! Are you really a professor?”

“Yes! I’m a professor- the only damned alchemy professor worth a damn.” Edward stewed in the corner as he nibbled on his chocolate frog. 

“Alchemy? Isn’t that dead magic?”

“Maybe for you, Weasley.”

Harry seemingly ignored their conversation in favor of a third Pumpkin Pasty, and then another chocolate frog. Edward seemed to notice his rather child-like appetite for sweets and tossed him his remaining frog. 

"Thanks." He said, deftly catching the chocolate confection. "Who'd you get?" Harry pointed to the professor's discarded candy box.

Edward shrugged without a word and tossed the empty box to Harry. "I've gotten them all- don't really see the point in keeping em'."

"All of them?" Ron's eyes were huge as if amassing such a collection was a great deal. "Over 500 cards and I'm still missing-"

"Agrippa right?" Harry butt in with a smile. "Here, now you're only one away right?"

"Blimey Harry! How'd you do that, must be some kind of permanent luck charm on ya!" Ron stared at the card in awe, his pile of frogs long forgotten. He mumbled a quick 'Thanks mate.' before gingerly tucking his newfound treasure into his luggage for safekeeping. 

The rest of the train ride went much the same- quiet conversation between the two boys and the occasional comment from the blond professor. Edward mostly stuck to his corner, writing in his centuries-old travel journey, charmed to prevent ware. He seemed content to just listen, observing his future students, one scrawny boy in particular. Only when a young-looking witch announced in the hall that professors were to meet at the front carriage did Edward turn to leave. 

"I'll be seeing you two- oh and Harry, try not to make my job any harder and stay out of trouble."

Just as Harry must have a permanent good luck charm, Edward must have a terrible luck charm, for life for the next seven years would be anything but easy.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

“What a weird bloke, I hope he’s not my professor- although learning dead magic would be sort of cool.” Ron said as he fiddled with the clasp on his new robe. 

“I don’t know, I think he seems sort of interesting. It‘s a little weird that he knew who I was before even seeing me.” Harry too fiddled with his rob, having never put one on before today.

“How’d ya mean?”

“Well, he just sort of burst into the carriage shouting my name. Didn’t even say why.”

“Maybe he’s like a bodyguard or something.” 

“What would I need a bodyguard for? It’s not like I’m in danger, right?” Harry looked up at his red-headed friend- brows furrowed in confusion. 

Ron seemed to consider this before giving a quick shrug and setting his luggage aside for the attendants to deliver later. “Yeah you’re probably right, anyway let's go before they leave us behind.”

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Edward bounced his leg repeatedly against the hardwood floor of the teacher’s carriage. He only recognized a few of the Wizards in the room- the thin woman with even thinner graying hair kept giving him strange looks, he thought distantly that she might be a previous student of his trying to account for his unwavering appearance. 

Few of the teachers looked his way- the Xexerian heritage present in his eyes quickly driving away any and all conversation. While being confused for a ‘vicious werewolf’ would usually piss him off to no end, he found himself rather glad for the confusion. 

They waited patiently in the homely carriage for no more than five minutes before a portly looking woman, who was most definitely a Hufflepuff if her dirt-covered robes were anything to go by, trotted casually into the room. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Mustang scolded him for not knowing the teacher’s names- mentally he stuck his tongue out at him. 

The older witch smiled brightly and announced herself as ‘Pomona Sprout- the head of the Hufflepuff house at Hogwarts- who may have once upon a time been Pomona Hedgings, a former student of his and best friend of Minerva McGonagall- and that she was to lead the professors, both new and old, to the castle before the students arrived. 

The stout woman guided them off the train and a short path from Hogsmeade to the castle. Apparently, the teachers were to attend a staff meeting immediately after dinner- presumably to inform the staff that the famous “Boy-Who-Lived” would be in attendance like that particular rumor mill wasn't already red hot in the community.

The castle was just as Edward remembered- standing tall and proud amongst the green his of Scotland. Great towering pillars soon to be filled with students and fantastically designed exterior- however, as much as Edward adored the looming building in the distance, it is not the home he made for himself and his family. No, when Edward attended the magnificent school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it was not the stone masterpiece in front of him, but a small bewitching abbey one would expect to be filled with monks and priests. There were in fact monks present, magical monks obsessed with worshipping the great power they believed to have gifted them their abilities, but monks all the same. 

The group was directed into a large foyer- the high rising windows reflecting the moon’s beams across the stone tiled floor. The matron Hufflepuff steered them down the hall into the Great Hall. The vast room was just as daunting as it had been the first time he’d see it- a velvety black ceiling adorned with glistening stars and beams of soft moonlight, which illuminated the various ghosts floating past. A gentle sigh escaped his lips as he realized just how many more ghosts joined the ghastly repertoire since the last time he’d taught. The tables were already set, adorned with their respective colors and banners, and the candles were lit- adding to the already ethereal feeling the enchanted ceiling provided. But his thoughts were interrupted when he laid eyes on the aging wizard sitting before him. There, sat on his golden throne was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore- the bane of his current existence. 

Albus had been a fairly obstinate man in his youth and an even worse one in his older years. His great schemes had caused many backpedals in his lengthy and tiring journey in the last few decades. The garishly dressed wizard was certainly a formidable foe should one try to cross him, but if one were to, twist his beard so to speak, the right way- he’d cave at your feet. And should Edward need, that is exactly what he’d do.

“Welcome professors- To Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry!” The man bellowed as he stood, for such a frail-looking man he certainly had a pair of pipes on him. “I hope your journey wasn’t too long. It seems every year the ride takes longer and longer!” Some of the older professors gave each other exhausted looks. Honestly, wizards were so lazy- a 6-hour train ride was nothing! Quite enjoyable if it weren't for the loud screaming children outside.

“Tonight we will once again be welcoming a new group of first years, and therefore a sorting ceremony.” 

Yes, because that didn't happen every fucking year. 

“Along with the new students, who will be arriving shortly, we have both new and old faces amongst us- some of which will be changing courses. But as not to ruin the surprise, we will be announcing those professors once the students arrive!” The bearded man sent them a ‘charming’ wink, one that most of the professors smiled at in return. 

Edward and the other professors claimed their seats at the High Table- Edward placing himself in the empty seat beside where he knew Minerva to sit. Beside him was a lanky figure, drenched in black robes and face pulled permanently into a scowl. 

“This is the _Professor’s_ table, boy.” Scorned the brackish man. “I suggest you go find your seat at one of the student’s tables.”

“ _Who are you calling short, swamp man_?” Edward glowered right back at the prickly man. The professor’s face soured and puckered at the insult. Edward was sure the man was about to respond in some more indignant tones like Edward was somehow beneath him, but an elderly voice interrupted from behind.

“I can assure you, Severus, Professor Elric is more than qualified to be teaching here. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time later to introduce ourselves during the staff meeting- for now, enjoy the feast!” Dumbledore smiled knowingly at the pair before turning to speak to a younger woman who looked rather exhausted.

“Hiring children, I swear that man will be the death of us all.” Sneered Severus, although it was clear he didn’t actually mean it. Something about the man, Edward though. He might have misjudged him at first glance- a strange sense of devotion, misguided if it was for the Old Coot, but devotion was something Edward could get behind. 

“Yeah well, I’m older than all of us in the room combined, so.” Edward leaned back in his chair in feigned boredom. Severus seemed to think he was joking and let out a small huff.

“I’ve never heard of the Elrics. Half-breed or Muggle-born?” Replied Severus in a similar uninterested tone. Edward turned to meet his eye, only to find the man's own to be cold and calculating- searching for something. Legilimency, Edward thought. Thankfully such an act would not work on him, Truth having long barred him mind from trespassers. Severus seemed to find his lack of memories to be curious enough to pursue the conversation. 

They sat idly chatting for about no more than five minutes before the seventh years were led in, then the 6th and 5th, and before long the whole school was present in the Great hall- except, of course, the first years. 

Edward sat with practiced ease, and continued to make small conversation with Professor Snape, for that is what he was called. Severus, although wary of his age and impenetrable mind, was a decent chat. They traded conversation back and forth, but Edward was only half paying attention by the end- his mind preoccupied with the hottest new show, ‘Keeping up with the Amestrians.’ Mustang and Havoc seemed content to listen to Snape’s conversation for him and provided answers to his questions when needed. Snape seemed none the wiser that his mind had thoroughly strayed to Mr. and Mrs. Cottingham’s latest spout. 

There was a creak up ahead of him, and the room quieted down- hushed whispers flooded the room as the unwieldy doors thrust open. A swarm of robed children stumbled into the vast room- faces bright and lively as they soaked up the errant magic in the room. Escorting them was a stern-looking witch adorned in emerald toned velvet silk robes. Her hair was bound together tightly atop her head in a bun and her spectacles sat perfectly square on her face. She was just as he remembered her if only a little older. She carried with her a worn wooden stool and a raggy hat- which he knew to be the blasted sorting hat. The damned thing had a wicked sense of humor, but he had to admit the hat’s decisions were usually spot on. 

The young first years seemed confused at the purpose of the withered old witch’s hat- he was sure they were expecting some sort of daredevil trial, many families thought it funny to spook their young children with the Hogwarts sorting. 

_‘Oh Edward, like you wouldn’t do the same thing.’_ Huffed Winry, her voice was light and full of amusement. Should Winry ever have children, she most definitely would have intimidated them with some sort of giant magical automail monstrosity. _‘I heard that!’_ Edward stiffed a laugh with a short cough at her outburst.

Thankfully, no one paid him as mind as they were distracted by the worn-down hat coughing and sputtering before letting out a joyous tune. Well, he says joyous, but really it was somewhat annoying- damn thing never did learn to sing on key. Edward tried his best to pay attention, after having spent so much time around the bastard, Edward knew that there was always something to learn from the hat’s song. However, this year the hat only sang of the different houses and their traits. Maybe he’d missed something? He’d ask Mustang about it later. 

As the sorting began, Edward droned in and out of awareness. There was really only one student he cared to know the house of- but he was still the crowd of students, presumably saved for last. After an indiscernible amount of time, the boy in question was called to be sorted. Both students and professors alike whispered frantically at the mention of the scraggly boy’s name, for he was ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived.” 

Harry glanced nervously at Minerva before setting himself down on the rickety old stool. He shrank rather suddenly when the floppy hat was placed on his head. Edward remembers the feeling- of having his mind poked and prodded by a stranger, and a hat no less. It’s not a pleasant feeling, having your mind and soul splayed out for someone. The hat was clearly experiencing some trouble deciding what house to place Potter in given how long they’d sat in hushed heavy silence. But then, of course, the sorting hat gave a great bellowing ‘GRYFFINDOR!’ 

The room gave way to searing applause, mostly from the red and gold table, as Harry was ushered towards his newly assigned house. Edward never did agree with the sorting method, in fact, he was dubious about the need for sorting, to begin with, but he supposed overtime he did learn to grow appreciative to the camaraderie of houses- although the last few decades has brought far more inter-house fighting that he remembers there being when he was a student. Even himself, being a Slytherin, didn’t fight that much amongst the other houses.

‘No you didn’t fight any of the houses because you were too preoccupied with raising Mer-’ But Mustang cut himself off before he could finish. Edward tried not to pay attention to the comment, but his mind was already filling with memories of a tiny pale boy running up and down the halls- not listening to his-

“Edward? Ed-” A delicate vintage called out from beside him, and a gentle hand landed softly on his flesh shoulder. 

“W-what? Oh, Minnie!” Edward startled but quickly regained his composure. He hadn’t even heard her come over- in fact he’s not quite sure he heard anything the last couple of minutes. 

“Are you alright, Edward?” She let go of his shoulder before taking her own seat at the table. He would have pulled it out for her as he always did, should he have been paying attention. 

“I should be asking you that, having to herd the first years around like newborn sheep. I don’t know how you put up with them.”

She leveled him a glare, but there was an amused spark in her eye. 

“I, Edward, possess something you do not.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Patience.”

Edward responded with an indignant noise, but it was quickly cut off by a ‘zap’ of magic as the feast appeared. He rounded the newly appeared food with an appraising eye before quickly spooning a rather generous helping of mash and filling his plate with an assortment of meats. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Minerva leveled an eye before filling her own plate. 

“When I saw that you were returning for Hogwarts, my initial thought was ‘What is he up to?’ It’s been years since you’ve last taught, so tell me, my dear friend, what brings you back to Hogwarts?” Said the aging witch after finishing a rather novel looking biscuit. 

Minerva McGonagall knew exactly why he was here, and why he couldn’t say as much. She spent so many years under him. She probably knew his life’s story by heart- and not because he was a particularly good storyteller. 

“Oh, you know how it is, just looking for a change of scenery.” Minerva nodded and buttered another biscuit. 

“You two know each other?” Grumbled Snape, he seemed both less and more wary of his presence now that Minerva had arrived.

“We are acquainted, yes.” Minerva flashed him one of her knowing smiles- Snape rolled his eyes, knowing that the conversation wouldn’t go any farther than that. 

They continued on like that, idle conversation between plates, a feast on their own, and the occasional divulge into magical theory. Then came dessert, trays stacked high with sweets and buns, cake and pies filled with chocolate and fruit, and whole platters of pumpkin-flavored desserts. Wizards, in their bizarre ways, had an odd liking for pumpkin- there were sweets, and juices, liqueurs, and beers, whole meals centered around pumpkin. Unfortunately, Edward didn’t much like pumpkin. 

Edward was speaking idly between the pair of professors at his side when an echoing aged voice bellowed across the hall. 

“Once again, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. First and foremost, the Forbidden Forest is just that- Forbidden. Any student who does not wish to meet a gruesome death would be wise to stray clear of the forest. Quidditch practice will resume within the coming weeks, and sign-ups will be held shortly. Aside from that we also have some new faces amongst us.” Dumbledore motioned towards the High Table, his purple robes billowing around him. “Professor Quirinus Quirrell will be taking up a position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and Professor Barclay Willis will be taking over the Muggle Studies Department.” Quirrell’s lopsided turban framed his twitching face perfectly. “And for the first time in over fifty years, Hogwarts will once again be holding Alchemy courses! Please welcome back Professor Edward Elric!”

Edward sighed under the attention before knocking his chair back and elevating his voice for the room to hear. “Alright, you little shits-” The crowd of students erupted into scandalized giggles, some from the professors as well- Snape’s own mirth was poorly hidden. “-I’ve agreed to pick teaching back up for the next few years, so expect to become very familiar with my face. As Dumbledore stated, I will be your Alchemy Professor. Which means- that anything you think you know about alchemy will be thrown out the door into the bin! And I will not tolerate anyone who thinks they know best- because they don’t, and if they really think they can do better than me- well I’ve heard the Forbidden Forest is a great place for a picnic.” Edward glowered down at the mess of students, seemingly frightened enough, and continued on with his speech. “Sixth and Seventh years will not be allowed to participate in alchemy without prior compilation in Alchemy one-” The was a chorus of groans throughout the hall. ``-and no one is to attempt any Alchemy on their own, including alchemy students, unless of course, they wish to lose an arm! In which case, go right ahead!” Edward grinned toothily at the children, who were by now definitely terrified of him.

Good, they won’t bother me then. He thought to himself. He really wasn’t a fan of teaching, and yet here he was- teaching, again.

The feast ended shortly after Edward’s speech, Dumbledore had said a few more words but was ultimately outshined by Edwards...aggressive speech. The students were ushered out the door by the house prefects- all the while whispering to each other about the new school year and it’s more than one oddity. Several people had by now noticed that Harry Potter was amongst the first years. Not to mention the display Edward made at the end of the feast- at least he hadn’t blown anything up or transmuted a student to the floor. Not that he would.

The professors and remaining staff members were guided down from the High Table and through a chamber off to the side- the innocuous room far bigger on the inside than one would imagine. The room was reminiscent of that of the Headmaster’s chambers- a large desk sat towards a large grouping of overstuffed armchairs and small oak tables covered in white dollies and stacks of overused books. 

Dumbledore glided surely to the head table and sat in the royal blue armchair- his half-moon glasses tipping just over his nose as he did so. He smiled serenely at them- his eyes never once stopped twinkling. 

Most of the other professors took an armchair or squished together on one of the long cushions skirting the walls. Edward, however, chose to stand- he wasn’t prepared to let his guard down in a group of people, aside from Minerva, he barely knew and trusted even less. Except of course maybe Hagrid, he was always a sweet kid- too kind for his own good and absolutely horrible at keeping a secret. Which would, Edward was sure, play into his hand quite well as long as he watched the dealer closely. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but welcome back to Hogwarts my friends! I’m certain you're all weary from travels, but we do have some prudent business to attend to first. Firstly, as I’m sure you all have heard by now, James’ and Lily's son- Harry, will be in attendance for the first time this year.” 

Very few of the professors it seems were unaware of this, for most of the witches and wizards were exchanging weary and excited glances. Edward, however, was less impressed. The boy was scraggly and underwhelming, but then again what had he expected? He just hoped the kid didn’t cause him too much trouble. 

“Harry has been raised by muggles until now, so he will be behind in some areas, but I expect he will catch on fairly quickly. Aside from Harry, we have a new professor in our midst. Please welcome Edward Elric- a proficient alchemist and wizard.” Dumbledore gestured kindly at the blond- Edward crinkled his nose as the false gesture. Neither Edward nor Albus especially liked each other- both wizards often getting in each other’s way. 

“P-Professor Dumbledore! Hiring children? Surely this is a joke!” Called out an elderly woman- her voice high strung and piercing. She was unfamiliar to his eyes- he didn’t think he’d ever taught her, but then again, having lived for so long…

But his thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore’s aged voice. 

“I understand your reservations Sinistra, but I can assure you Professor Elric is a highly competent alchemist- far better than myself in fact.” 

“B-but he’s no more than a boy! Professor, we can’t have children teaching our students- he’s probably no older than the seventh years!” Cried Sinistra, still clearly unnerved by his presence- most were, and it wasn’t just his age. 

“W-well I-I think it’s a w-wonderful! Having s-such a young man t-teaching!” Stuttered out Quirrell- Edward thought there might be something very wrong with the man, and not because of the stutter. There was an odd sense of fraudulence floating about the man, but dark-arts professors were always strange. Edward decided he’d keep an eye out on the man. He tried not to think of what might happen if someone were to try and start something in a school of all places- but Edward has been tracked and hunted down in worse places. 

“I can attest to this man’s proficiency; he being the son of my late mentor. His skills are unparalleled, and seeing as he is the only available alchemy professor in all the Isles worth anything, I suggest we welcome him kindly into our school.” Minerva nodded in kind to Edward, she always was good at getting him out of trouble- that cool head of hers sat well on her sturdy shoulders. 

Sinistra seemed to heed Minerva’s words, but the distrust was clearly written on her face. The other professors shot curious glances his way, and the stout woman- Professor Sprout- held out her hand with a homely smile. 

“It’s always good to have a new face, welcome to Hogwarts my dear!” Edward shook her outstretched hand with his own, careful not to press so hard as to alert her of anything wrong. His automail limbs, although quite old at this point and in need of another repair soon enough, were still in fact metal and rather hard. Unfortunately, Wizards didn’t often use prosthetics and those who did resorted to incredibly simple wooden ones- although occasionally enchanted to allow for more movement. 

The rest of the night went much the same, greetings and small talk interlude more important conversations about classrooms and student behaviors. Eventually, the meeting came to an end, and Edward was guided to his rooms, the very same he’d used during his last stint as a professor- ground floor, classroom 1C, which was in fact- near Minerva’s classroom apparently. Edward had never taught during any of Minerva’s time as a professor- whose own stint at teaching was stretched across many years at different intervals- but he was sure she was as great of a professor as she was a student. They chatted idly until they were sure the hallways were empty of roaming teachers or students. 

“It’s almost time, no? That’s why you’re here?” She said in a tender voice. She knew of many of his ‘quests and duties, and it wasn’t often Edward found himself in one place for too long. 

Edward gave a noncommental nod of his head- unable to think of much more to say.

“And the boy? Will he be safe here?” That caught him off guard- Minerva was of the fervent belief that Hogwarts was the safest place in all of Britain, and for all intents and purposes- it is. But only because Edward made it so- he long fortified the walls and foundation with alchemy, and the towers were reinforced as well. That along with the several hundred charms littering the area should be enough to protect the castle structurally. But as a military man, Edward knows that there are far worse things than falling buildings, and so does Minerva. 

“He’ll be fine, I’m keeping an eye out on him- if anything goes to hell, I’ll be the first to know. I’m more worried about someone snuffing him out while he’s out of school- where I can’t easily protect him. I’m not really in the mood to neighbor with the kid in whatever muggle community he’s stuck in. He’s not the only one I’m keeping an eye on.”

Minerva flashed him a worrying glance. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, to a wizard- death is merely a belief.”

Minerva hesitated, her brows pinched and mouth thin, before responding quietly under her breath. “You don’t think he’s gone?” 

“I think, Minnie, we’re in for a long few years.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This idea had been in my head for the past several weeks, and I just had to put it down. There are a couple of things I'm sure you've noticed, one that the story switches POV- this will continue throughout the fic, along with the flashbacks- they are important to the story, but you will almost always be able to tell that they are flashbacks. 
> 
> The spell Proluo Prolutum means 'to cleanse oneself' in Latin. It is a custom variation of the 'Scourgify spell, only specifically for cleaning the body of dirt and grime, odor and sweat.


End file.
